From Vienna to Prague: Between paper piles and the pitch

"Archival work is almost a bit like piecing together a puzzle," I tell a friend from the natural sciences when she asks about my summer dissertation plans. But on closer inspection, there are crucial differences between the two: Archival work does not follow a clear template, and there is no fixed picture that should emerge in the end. Every discovery can reframe the problem, shift the direction of the research entirely or even spark completely new, more promising ideas. The question and the material shape each other. The months between July and September, when there are no lectures, are ideal for this focused, creative and sometimes slightly chaotic process – and this time it led me to Prague.

I was born only after the Czech Republic became a democracy – and like many others of my generation, I grew up with a particular, emotionally charged image of the socialist past. Who has not heard of the infamous banana queues or the barbed wire at the border? These symbols of isolation remain part of our collective memory to this day and continue to shape our social self-perception.

When I first visited the archive of the Academy of Fine Arts in Prague, I was somewhat surprised by the institution’s lively international exchange back then. Especially the large number of students from geographically distant regions – about whom I had found nothing in Czech art historiography – sparked my curiosity.

International student careers behind the "Iron Curtain"

In my PhD project, I analyse the artworks and experiences of students from countries of the Global South – such as Cuba, Vietnam, or Afghanistan – who studied at the Academy of Fine Arts in Prague between 1968 and 1989, thanks to state scholarships in Czechoslovakia. This topic has received scant attention in research to date. For this reason, I even had to compile the very foundation of my project – a complete list of the students – through painstaking research in the archive.

Then the actual search for clues began: Where are these people living today, often more than 50 years after they graduated? Are they still working in the arts? And how can I get in touch with them if they have returned to their home countries? When I manage to establish contact, I carry out semi-structured interviews with the students, which form the micro-perspective core of my dissertation.

Tracing various paths: From the bigger picture to the tiniest details

But that was not the subject of my visit to the Prague archives this time. This time, I was looking for traces of the supplementary macro level, which will help me to reconstruct the state and institutional framework conditions. My research was thus guided by the following questions: What structures did Czechoslovakia create to enable students from certain countries to study art in Prague? How did the administrative process work? And in what form did the cooperation with other universities take place? To find answers to these questions, my best bet was to visit the National Archives of the Czech Republic and the archives of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Sometimes the relevant archival holdings have not yet been catalogued. Although this gives you a rough idea of the direction in which your search needs to go and you can also consult with the responsible archive staff, you are then still sitting in front of a file folder, not knowing whether it contains an important reference or not. It is often just a small detail that can quickly change the direction of further research. For example, I discovered a documentary series from 2002 in the archives of Czechoslovakian television broadcaster. The series featured an Afghan graduate whom I had not been able to find in any sources before, which was a small breakthrough for contacting this person later on.

Building a nation through art

I also search for clues by studying the artworks. The art history of my homeland has actually captivated me since my master's studies. However, perhaps influenced by my personal history, I initially explored it in the context of Austria-Hungary. Using the example of the artists' group Mánes (1898–1907), I examined the close relationship between Czech modernism and nation-building in the years leading up to the collapse of the monarchy. In my publications, I discuss how Mánes became a leading force in Bohemia so quickly, be it through harnessing the momentum of the ongoing National Revival, the ambition to create independent Czech national art, or progressive exhibition design.

As not all students have kept their student works, historical exhibition catalogues with images of the exhibited works in the library of the Academy of Fine Arts are an important source. Some of them have not yet been catalogued. In this case, the classic index card method helps with identification and localisation. The archive of the Czech National Gallery also holds the meticulously kept diaries of Professor Jan Smetana, which provide insights into everyday life in the studios of the Academy of Fine Arts – and thus also help me to structure the interviews.

As I come from Prague myself (but have not lived there for more than 15 years), I have a number of advantages when researching in the Prague archives: I quickly find my way around because I understand the language and I was soon familiar with the structure and holdings of the estates. The archives that are relevant for my research are also in exceptionally beautiful locations. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the National Gallery are located just a few steps away from St Vitus Cathedral and Petřín Park, while the Academy of Fine Arts is located in the centre of Stromovka, a large English-style park. Taking a walk with a great view of the whole city is the perfect way to clear your head after hours of often monotonous work among dusty files – or to reflect on the findings of the day with friends over a Czech Pilsner.

What art and football have in common

In addition to visiting parks, my second personal Prague ritual is going to a football match. I have been a passionate supporter of Slavia Prague since my youth, and back then my season ticket had me cheering in the fan section at every home game. Today, I mostly indulge in my ’football fanaticism’ in internet forums. Every now and then people are a bit surprised by my hobby: Art and football? How does this even go together? But for me personally, they are not really that different: Both are ultimately about emotions. Art tends to move you slowly and steadily, whereas a football match can make you euphoric in an instant. The joy of an unexpected discovery in the archives comes close to that ecstatic feeling in the stadium – only, in the reading room, you are unfortunately not allowed to cheer quite so loudly…